Jackson flipped a catch on the winch, grabbed the hook at the end of the chain, and unspooled the chain as he waded across the stream. Jeb and the others followed. The rain and wind still buffeted them. Jeb hunched against it.
“River’s already rising,” Tanya said.
“Yeah, let’s get this job done,” Annette said. “Everyone OK?”
“Just a bump,” Nguyen said. “How’s your neck?”
“Sore as hell,” Annette said as they started slogging up the side of the gorge.
“I’m so sorry,” Christina told Jeb again.
Jeb let out another laugh. “It was worth it to see the look on your face. Anyway, it’s just a nasty scratch. Now I know you really mean business. Don’t worry, I’ll be good.”
Christina looked away, embarrassed. Jeb was surprised he was taking it so well. He guessed he was too relieved to be alive to get angry at anything.
After a couple of minutes of slipping and sliding they made it to the road. By then the rain and wind had died down somewhat, but they were all cold and soaked to the skin. Jackson found a large boulder a bit beyond where part of the road had sheared off and looped the cable around it, hooking it through one of the links. Then he went over to the edge of the slope and waved to Rachel. She gave him a thumbs-up, barely visible through the rain, and got back in the vehicle.
A high whine sounded out of the valley. The cable grew taught and Jeb could see the pulley at the front of the vehicle start to turn, reeling in the cable like a fisherman reels in a line. The four-by-four eased through the rushing white water of the stream, came to the other side, and began to creep up the slope.
“Be careful, Rach,” Tanya said under her breath.
Jeb shook his head. “Don’t worry. That chick is invincible.”
Within a couple of minutes the vehicle crested the edge of the slope, spun its tires for a tense moment as more soil broke away, then got a grip on the remaining pavement and pulled itself past the danger spot. Rachel stopped next to them, cut off the engine, and beckoned them inside.
“We’ll stay here until the rain stops,” she said as they all piled in. “Here, I’ll turn the heat on so we can dry off.”
“This thing’s got a heater too?” Jeb asked.
“Welcome to civilization, machete man,” she grinned back.
Jackson tended to his wound. Jeb removed his shirt and as the deputy washed his side with clean water and dabbed some iodine on the cut, Jeb looked around at his companions. Nobody seemed badly hurt but they were all shaken. All except for that crazy mechanic. She looked like she actually enjoyed the ride down the gully.
He looked over at Christina and saw guilt etched on her face. He smiled at her.
You go right ahead and feel guilty. That will keep your guard down.
Jackson wrapped his middle with gauze.
“It doesn’t look too bad,” the deputy said. “You’ll be OK.”
“Yeah, but with that and the cut on my arm, I’m not in the best shape for hunting down a cult.”
Annette turned around from the front seat, her head silhouetted by the rain-spattered windshield.
“We have a deal,” she said.
“And I’ll keep it. Just saying I’m not a hundred percent.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not like you got to fight or anything.”
“If they come after us, if we get surrounded or something, I sure as hell will have to fight.”
“What with?” Tanya asked. “Rocks?”
Jeb lapsed into silence. It seemed their sympathy only went so far. He’d hoped his hint would get them talking about arming him. He didn’t expect them to give him a weapon right now, but if they were under fire it would be dumb for them to be short a man. It looked like he’s have to prove himself a lot more than he had.
But how? If he was going to turn this around enough to be allowed back to the Burbs, he was going to have to do something pretty heroic. Save another life, perhaps.
The first thing he had to do was survive the day. With all of them soaked in tainted rain and packed into the vehicle, the air was becoming thick with a chemical stench. With the interior growing hotter, condensation built up on the windows. Jeb started getting lightheaded.
“Couldn’t we open the doors or something?” Charley asked.
“I don’t want rain to get in,” Rachel replied.
No one spoke for a minute, then Charley opened his door and puked out onto the pavement.
“OK, maybe we should leave the doors open,” Rachel conceded.
Everyone opened their doors. Rachel bustled around the vehicle hanging tarpaulins over the doors and roof so water wouldn’t get in. They sat there feeling ill as the heater tried to dry their soaked clothing.
At last the rain slackened and died. Rachel sprang out. Jeb, desperate to get out of the enclosing space, did the same.
“Watch him!” Christina shouted.
Your guilt didn’t last long, did it?
“I got him,” Charley said, emerging from the vehicle carrying his rifle.
“Feeling better?” Jeb asked.
“Not really. You?”
“Gotta get some air.”
Charley shook his head. “Not much better out here.”
It wasn’t. The smell of the rain clung to everything. At least there was a cool breeze that eased the stifling heat of the vehicle’s interior.
Something by the side of the road caught Jeb’s attention. A maple tree. It looked healthy too.
“Hey Rachel,” he said. “I noticed a toolbox in the trunk. You got a saw?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I borrow it?”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. It looked strange on that usually happy face.
“What for?”
“I want to cut a branch off that tree. Both of you can cover me. I think two guns beats a saw, don’t you?”
“What do you want to cut that branch for?” Annette asked as she emerged from the vehicle. Suspicion looked quite normal on her face.
“It’s a present for you, for trusting me. Actually it’s a present for your kid. He can carve a bat out of it.”
Suspicion and softness fought for control of Annette’s feature. In the end it looked like a tie.
“Go ahead and give him the saw,” Annette told Rachel.
The driver shrugged and fetched the saw. Jeb went up to the tree, examined all the low branches, and picked a thick, straight one.
As he worked he glanced out over the western slope of the mountain across the foothills and lowlands. The clouds in the foreground were light gray with a few streaks of blue in between, but a darker band of clouds was approaching from the distance.
“Better hurry up,” Annette said. “Looks like more rain on the way.”
“That’s always the way it is in these parts,” Charley said. “The rain comes in waves.”
Rachel turned and headed back to the four-by-four. “If we hurry we can make it over the pass before the next squall hits. Let’s go.”
Jeb finished his work and handed the saw to Annette. He placed the branch on the back seat.
“I’ll give you instructions on how to carve before I go. Too bad I can’t carve it myself. He’s a good kid.”
Annette allowed a little smile to creep into the corners of her mouth.
As he got into the vehicle, he saw Christina had drawn her pistol. Jeb gave her a look.
“I’ll be more careful this time,” she said with a hint of a smile.
Just as Rachel revved up the engine, the radio came alive with a hiss.
“Patrol Two calling base, over.”
The response came immediately, “Base calling patrol, this is Clyde, over.”
“We’re back at the pass. Returning to base, over.”
Rachel picked up the receiver and cut in. “Mobile One to Patrol and Base. I’m dropping off a package. Sit tight and I’ll pick you up, over.”
“That’s fine, Rachel. Thanks for the lift. Over and out
.”
“Mobile One, Clyde here. What’s your status? Over.”
“Everything A-OK. Will call again once I pick up Patrol Two. Been having a fun ride, over.”
Rachel turned and grinned at her passengers. Jeb chuckled and shook his head.
Rachel popped into gear and they headed up the mountain. Now that the rain had stopped and the wind had died down it was easier going. She still took it slow, and it was another half hour before they made it around a long bend and up a steep incline to a leveled off area. Open skies ahead of them told Jeb they had made it to the pass.
“Patrol Two should be here somewhere,” Rachel said.
“Holy shit! What’s that?” Annette said from the front passengers seat.
Rachel slammed on the brakes. Jeb lunged forward, caught himself, and peered over Annette’s shoulder.
Bodies. Dozens of bodies scattered across the road.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“OK, you’re seeing me. What do you want?”
The Doctor’s office seemed like another world, something that hadn’t existed for a hundred years. Although she was barely conscious, Susanna couldn’t help but admire how clean, how technological, it was.
She didn’t need to look at The Doctor himself as he poked and prodded her, checking her health with a variety of instruments she didn’t recognize. One look at him confirmed her suspicions—he was a fanatic, just like The Giver, just like The Pure One. While his fanaticism had created this wonderful place, this safe refuge, that didn’t make him any less of a fanatic.
And Susanna had learned through bitter experience that fanatics thought only of one thing—whatever it was that drove them. Everything else, everyone else, was irrelevant.
“I was enslaved,” Susanna said as The Doctor clicked on the end of what looked like a pen and a little electric light came on at the tip. He flashed it first in one eye, then the other.
“I know you were. All the porters were. We’re not holding it against you. You’re safe.”
Susanna shook her head. “I’m not talking about the Righteous Horde, I was enslaved after that by your own people.”
The Doctor sighed and rubbed his tired eyes.
“I’m afraid not all my people are as understanding as I am. Where did this happen? Do you know their names?”
Susanna watched at his face. His reaction would be important.
“It happened in Weissberg.”
The Doctor looked confused.
“Where?”
“Abraham Weissman’s new town.”
The Doctor stared at her, stunned.
“He’s building a settlement about three days north of here, past that stretch of toxic land. It’s hidden in a little valley. He’s got a group of New City people and scavengers building it and he’s planning on bringing the entire Merchant’s Association there eventually. He went through the wildlands rounding up porters to work as slaves. I escaped. There’s about. . .”
Susanna’s voice trailed off. The Doctor’s face had turned purple with rage, eyes afire. His hands balled into fists and shook. The penlight snapped in his grip.
Susanna edged back. She’d like to think that he was enraged for her sake, for Donna’s and the other slaves’ sake, but no. He was enraged that Abe had defied him. People like The Doctor were all the same.
“Can you take us there?” The Doctor’s voice came out in a harsh whisper.
“Sure,” Susanna nodded. “If you promise to free the other slaves.”
“I’ll do a hell of a lot more than that. Guard!”
The guard at the door hurried in, gun leveled at Susanna and obviously thinking she had tried something.
“Go get Clyde and Marcus, right now!” The Doctor barked.
The guard’s eyes went wide and he ran off like a scared rabbit.
Yes, they fear you, don’t they? They respect you, some of them might even love you, but they fear you too.
The Doctor turned back to Susanna.
“Tell me more.”
So Susanna told him everything. About Eduardo, about getting picked up by a Weissberg patrol, about Derren, noticing that The Doctor’s face flared in recognition at the mention of his name, and about her domestic servitude and eventual escape.
She left out her meeting with The Giver. The deal had been to deliver the message to his daughter and not tell anyone. Besides, she sensed that was something The Doctor would be interested in and she didn’t want to distract him. The important thing was to get to Weissberg and free Donna and the other slaves.
A few minutes later, two aging men hurried into the room. One was dressed in camouflage and the other looked like he had been pulled out of bed. The Doctor turned to her.
“This is Clyde Devon, the Head of the Watch, and this is Marcus Callahan, my assistant mayor. Tell them what you told me.”
She looked at Marcus. This was the man who was taking care of The Giver’s daughter. How had he managed to get his little spy into the assistant mayor’s house? There was a lot she didn’t understand here, and she was too tired to figure it out now.
As she repeated her story, The Doctor left the room. Clyde and Marcus looked shocked at what she said, then angry. Clyde’s hand kept straying to the pistol at his belt. Just as she finished, The Doctor returned carrying a small paper package. Unwrapping it, he handed her a brown, sticky bar that smelled faintly of honey.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“A nutrition bar made to my own recipe. Nuts, honey, dried fruit, and cereal all mixed together. It will help you regain your strength.”
Susanna nodded and took a bite.
“So do you think you can find it again?” Clyde asked, his hand resting on his gun.
“Yes,” she replied around a mouthful of food. “It’s well hidden, though. You’d never see it just passing by. Some hills block it from view. And if you were going through the hills you probably wouldn’t see it because there are bigger hills all around. You’d have to walk right into it or you’d never know it was there.”
Clyde nodded. “A nice little spot. I bet a few scavengers knew about it, but those folks always keep good finds to themselves.”
“Abe’s people probably hunted them down and killed them off,” Marcus said, speaking for the first time.
Susanna nodded and finished the nutrition bar. Licking her sticky fingers, she looked around hoping to see another one.
The three of them made her tell her story again, asking for more details—any names she could remember, what equipment they had, how many guns. She fought to keep her eyes open. At last they stopped pestering her.
“Not a word about what you’ve told us to anyone else, understand?” The Doctor said.
Susanna nodded. “I understand. You are going to do something about it, aren’t you?”
The Doctor’s face darkened. “Damn right I will.”
“Alright then, I’ll keep it quiet. But one thing, I’m not going back to that prison you have in front of the wall.”
“It’s not a prison it’s a—”
“It’s a prison, and while I don’t blame you since most people would have killed us it’s still a prison and I’m not going to it.”
“Now look—”
“The deal is that I keep my freedom for showing you Weissberg. Do I look like I can hurt anybody?”
With a visible effort, The Doctor calmed himself. At last he shrugged.
“Fine,” he said, and turned to the others. “Where should we put her up?”
“I can handle that,” Clyde said. He summoned a guard and he told him, “Find someone in the Burbs with a shack and trade for them to move out for the night. Search the shack and clear out anything that can be used as a weapon. Then post a pair of guards outside. The prisoner will stay there.”
“I’ll lead her out,” Marcus said. “Looks like you have an expedition to plan.”
Clyde sighed. “I sure as hell do.”
Marcus looked at her with sympathy. She met his gaze
and liked what she saw there. He looked kind. How someone who looked kind made it so far in this world was a mystery to her.
“Come on, let’s get you something hot to eat and then you can rest,” Marcus said. Turning to Clyde he asked. “Has she been searched?”
“Several times.”
Marcus nodded and motioned for her to follow. A pair of guards dogged them as they left the building. Once outside, Clyde hurried off. The guards remained with Marcus and Susanna.
The assistant mayor led her to a frame house and without knocking went onto the porch and unlocked the front door.
“This is my place,” he said.
Susanna blinked. She’d been led right to where she needed to go. For once luck was with her.
Just as he opened the door a woman in her sixties, hair tied up in a gray bun, came up and greeted him. Electric light glowed from inside.
“I was just reading. There’s some stew warmed up. Anytime The Doctor calls you out this late you’re up half the night. Oh, guests!”
The woman smiled at Susanna and the guards.
“This is Rosie, my wife,” Marcus explained. “Rosie, meet Susanna. You already know Conrad and Spiegelman. Susanna was one of the porters. She’s going to help us out.”
Rosie looked at Susanna and worry deepened the lines on her face.
“You looked worn out. Come inside. Here, sit down.”
Rosie ushered her into a dining area where she sat her down on a chair in front of a wobbly card table. Bustling about, Rosie produced a pillow, blanket, and piece of bread in short order.
“I’ll get you some stew. Marcus, pour her some milk.”
Marcus grinned and lifted up a flagstone in the corner of the kitchen. Beneath was a stone-lined cyst in the floor. From it he pulled out a small jug.
“Goat’s milk, from my own herd just today,” he said, and brought it over. “Oh, and don’t mention to The Doctor or Clyde that you had dinner here.” With that he gave a significant look to the guards, who shrugged. “They suffer too much from stress. It’s their job to be paranoid, I suppose.”
Susanna took the milk and drank deeply. Within a minute she was shoveling down a steaming bowl of stew. Everything seemed distant, unreal. She could barely put a thought together. Her worn-out body worked automatically to put food into her mouth. People were talking, but she wasn’t sure what they were saying or even if she was replying.
Refugees from the Righteous Horde (Toxic World Book 2) Page 20